Drives
Below are a list of Drives that give your character the motivation they need to adventure and put themselves at risk. Altruism You instinctively act for the benefit of others, especially when they’re unable to help themselves. As far as you’re concerned, the fees the crew earns for its cases are just a means to an end. They keep the ship operational and the group sufficiently equipped to go out and do good in the world. The need for strong men and women to act selflessly is greater than ever. This sector of space has taken some hard knocks, and people are scared and discouraged. But if enough folks put the common good over their own petty interests, someday —maybe someday soon— the Mandate will go back to what it was before the Scream. Atonement You did something shameful, which led you to an epiphany—you can only erase its emotional burden by acting to make the world a better place. Destroying yourself won’t help anyone, though if the stakes were high enough, you’d willingly sacrifice your misbegotten life in order to make things right. This need to atone might literally be religious in nature. Just as likely, you want to clear your name, so that posterity will remember a hero instead of a creep. Or perhaps this is simply a matter between you and your tortured conscience. Avenger Lawless men hurt or killed someone you cared about deeply. Although you couldn’t stop that tragedy, you resolved to hunt them down and punish them. You were left with your rage unslaked when you finally did catch up with the wrongdoers. The Silent Sectors crawl with rats just like them, you realized. Still fee¬ling empty inside, you resolved to take similar vengeance on behalf of the myriad other victims who can’t do it for themselves. Thus, you joined the Mandate Expeditionary Force—the closest thing to judge, jury and executioner the terms of the Mandate will allow. Civilizer Civilization took a series of devastating blows during the Scream. With deprivation endemic and the bonds of social cooperation fraying, someone has to step in to make the Silent Sectors livable again. Only when people feel safe, and able to trust others, can businesses flourish and the economy rise again. When employment and security return, the fruits of civilization—arts, culture, scholarship—can resurge, too. Until then, the treasures of the past will remain in peril, and the future will be barren of accomplishment. You don’t care whether the Silent Sectors rise again under the Mandate, or as an autonomous zone. What matters is that they rise. And until the rule of law is restored, that won’t happen. One day MEF Rangers will be unnecessary, as functional governments establish accountable governments. Before this can happen, the Silent Sectors need people like you, to take the first essential steps on the road back. Chronicler Ever since you were a little kid, you knew you were destined for greatness as a writer. You’ve consoled yourself during these hard times by recalling that writers should write what they know—and that they should know something interesting. Since then, you’ve gone out into the world in search of new experiences you could incorporate into your work. When the war ended, you sought the toughest, most exciting and romantic job in the furthest corner of the universe, all in search of material for your magnum opus. You may write non-fiction or cast your experiences in novel form. Your chosen form might be the song, the holonovel—or for that matter, photography, painting or some other medium with a documentary element. Whatever the method, you’re determined that the history of this great, sad era will be remembered—with your name stamped indelibly on it. Comradeship You might have been motivated by abstract or material concerns when you first signed on as a MEF Ranger, but that all fell by the wayside. The real reason to be part of a crew, you came to realize, is for the intense bond between men and women who depend completely on each other for their lives and livelihoods. The crew might have started out as a motley band of outcasts, and in some ways they still are. But deep down, they’re like a family to you. The ties you’ve forged under fire are in many ways stronger than blood. (You might, in fact, be estranged from your kin. Or perhaps you lost them all in the war.) No value is more important than personal loyalty. No people matter more than the crew of your ship. And for them to survive and prosper, the job has to get done. It may be dangerous, but you know you can do it, if you all just pull together. Derring-Do Why are you a MEF Ranger? Because that’s where the action is! Only when your back is up against the wall do you feel truly alive. People say “adrenaline junkie” like it’s a bad thing. But time and again you’ve proven the usefulness of a person who embraces danger like a long-lost love. That doesn’t mean you drift off when the others are sifting facts and kicking around theories. Anyone can go and get into a fight or stick his neck where it doesn’t belong. The true thrill comes when the stakes are high, and people are depending on you. That means knowing your facts, cutting through the fog, and homing in on the crux of the situation. Once you know the score, that’s when you shine: when you strap on your laser pistol and dive right in, photons popping all around you. Entrepreneurial You intend to be rich. You probably grew up desperately poor during the bad old days of the Silence. Or maybe your family once had it all, before everything went up in smoke, and now you want it back. Maybe there are easier, safer ways to fatten your bankroll, but none of them panned out for you. After a succession of failed schemes that supposedly couldn’t miss, you’ve settled on the MEF business as the best match-up between your ambitions and your skill set. Granted, the line of work is a hard-scrabble one—for the moment. But you can see how a single crew on a single ship might parlay itself into a franchise and then an empire. When people hear of your financial ambitions, they automatically assume that you’re bent. And sure, maybe you are occasionally tempted to cut a corner or two to fatten the margins. But in the long run you see that a reputation for honesty will serve as the cornerstone of the vast business you hope to establish. And you’d better do it fast—because you’re darn sure you’re not the only gun-wielding entrepreneur who hopes to corner this market. Exploration You’re never happier than when you’ve got a glowbug in your hand and a dark hallway ahead of you. Before the Scream, a primary mission of the Mandate was the exploration of the unknown. It plunged ever-further into the dark of space, mapping new worlds and encountering unimagined life forms. Those ideals fell by the wayside during the long years of the Silence, but they never lost their place in your imagination. There’s no money for exploration any more. Nor with population sizes devastated by conflict is there a hunger for additional worlds to colonize. That hey¬day might be gone forever, but you can still relive the moments of discovery logged by the great fleet captains of the glory days. Many of the Silent Sectors dark corners remain undocumented. You might easily find new worlds, creatures—perhaps even unknown sentient species—as you bounce around the space lanes with your MEF crew. Even on well-trodden planets, there’s usually a strange ruin to plumb or weird anomaly to chase. Family Tradition Your parents, and their parent’s parents before them, served in the Mandate fleet. Generations of your family have served the public as warriors, cops, and protectors. Trace your lineage back to your species’ home world, and you’ll find a long line of officers and generals, stretching back as far as history allows. Although the slovenly conditions and communal decision-making of an MEF vessel may be a far cry from the spit-and-polish world you were raised in, it beats civilian life. Maybe you’ll slowly whip your unconventional crewmates into regulation shape. If there are missions to be accomplished, you’re there. Your family tree is failure-free, and you aim to keep it that way. Footloose You don’t like to stay too long in one place. Maybe you were born in a stultifying environment, and swore you’d never be tied down again. On the other hand, you might never have known a home, and get the sweats at the thought of a permanent planetside roof over your head. This is a particular malady of people raised in a military environment, as you might have been during the war. For someone struck by wanderlust, there’s no sweeter gig than being a MEF Ranger. You’re always moving around. You meet new people, go to fresh places, do a few exciting things, and then disappear from their lives forever. Though you’re not planning to quit anytime soon—you’re hard-pressed to think of a sweeter gig—it soothes you to know that you could, at any minute. In the mean¬time, you work and think hard to solve the case at hand. Because when you do, you can get the heck out of there and move on yet again. Hotshot Nobody does it better than you. Ever since you were young, you showed a natural flair for every activity you deigned to dabble in. Naturally you chose a glamorously hazardous line of work, one that allows you to show off your dazzling array of talents. You’d sooner act by the seat of your pants than plan laboriously ahead—there’s always some surprise that changes your plans anyway. Every problem that confronts your MEF crew is a chance to once again confirm to the world how great you are. You tackle obstacles with aplomb, confident in your brilliant intellect and inborn athleticism. If these qualities weren’t counterbalanced by a disarming grin and a cargo bay full of charisma, people might think you a conceited blowhard. Well, maybe a few folks do anyway. But they’re jealous rivals and disgruntled ex-lovers, mostly. Not that you worry your handsome head about that. You’re too busy making the Silent Sectors a better place. Justice-Seeker Mandate space used to be a place where the virtuous were rewarded and the unjust punished. Now no such certainties apply. The powerful act with impunity. The weak cower in fear. As a MEF Ranger, you do your small part to rebalance the scales. Decent, hardworking people who harm no one must be shielded from harm. Predators and exploiters must once more dread the consequences of their misdeeds. You are no vigilante; as a MEF Ranger, you are a legally appointed deputy of a legitimate authority. As such, you must bring true justice, not revenge dressed up in pretty platitudes. Mercy and good judgment must temper your wrath. You are not the law, but are only its humble instrument. Mandatism As a fervent believer in the Mandate and its ideals, you took a post as a MEF Ranger in order to bring order back to the Silent Sectors. By reducing its chaos, you will pave the way for the inevitable day when the Mandate recovers and reasserts its authority in deed as well as in name. When that time comes, you’ll probably sign up for duty in the Mandate fleet. By serving in a Ranger crew, you can keep the MEF from slipping into corruption, so that they don’t taint the Mandate by association. Although you see successful mission completion as goal number one, you don’t hesitate to lay the groundwork for a Mandate resurgence as opportunity arises. You don’t want local independence, to succeed. Whether you regard separatists as misguided rivals or venal traitors is up to you. Nowhere Else To Go Until you signed on with your MEF crew, you were a directionless vagabond. Despite the list of useful talents you picked up during the Silence, you were unable to make a go of it in civilian life. Without family, friends or opportunity, you bounced from one low-end, no-future job to the next. This dispiriting period may have been marked by addiction, depression, or some other self-destructive behavior. Your path crossed with your fellow crew members by random accident. Finally your real life seemed to begin, with all of those wasted years seeming merely a prelude to it. You attack each problem ferociously, as if afraid that a single failure will send you spinning back into those days of soul-crushing despair. Professionalism You do a job and do it well, and that’s all the philosophy you need in your life. You take the MEF seriously and expect others to act accordingly. Nothing burns you more than other crews who do sloppy work, fail to execute according to contract parameters, or—worst of all—engage in corrupt activity. The best compliment you can give to another MEF Ranger is to say that he or she is “good.” That means that he gets the job done with a maximum of efficiency and a minimum of whining, hesitation or drama. You respect others who perform their jobs, whatever they may be, in the same manner. Those who fail to live up to the expectations of their duty, whether through selfishness, inexperience, or laziness, get nothing from you but your curt disapproval. Pursued Somebody’s looking for you, and you don’t want them to find you. If they do, you want the solid backup that only a crew of heavily armed Rangers can bring. Although you’ve always got one eye out for signs that your pursuers have finally caught up with you, you don’t let that interfere with the performance of your duties. You need the rest of the crew on your side should that terrible day of reckoning ever arrive. So you do your best to make yourself indispensable to them. When the crew’s successes attract reputation-building attention, you fade modestly into the background, to keep your image from being broadcast. When internal tensions tear at the group from within, you act as mediator. They’re your bubble of safety, and you mean to protect that at all costs. Programming Your brain has been altered or designed to make you the ideal Ranger. Depending on the details you choose for your backstory, you may or may not be conscious of this. You might have been subjected to genetic, cybernetic, or behavioral modification. You tackle mysteries, entering hazardous situations when necessary, because this is what your deepest instincts tell you to do. That you would do otherwise is no more thinkable than a vacuum cleaner refusing to pick up dirt. If you know that you’re programmed, you react with surprise when others are appalled by the notion. They say you lack freedom of choice, but you see that others are programmed, too—but often with contradictory impulses that bring only unhappiness. You are glad to have a clear consistent purpose—and in such an interesting field! The fact that your programmers engineered this contentment into you does not make it unreal. If you decide to start play unaware of your programming, you will probably undergo a wrenching identity crisis when the truth emerges. It will not, however, alter your compulsion to act as an exemplary Ranger. Rakish Adventure You signed up as a MEF Ranger after cluing in to one essential observation: lots of gals and/or guys get turned on by the sight of a uniform. As far as you’re concerned, the entire purpose of a starship is that you can use it to cruise around the Silent Sectors, meeting and bedding the sexiest creatures in the galaxy. Service as a MEF Ranger lets you love and leave ‘em guiltlessly—your conquests know it’s part of the deal from the jump. Although you can hardly blame them if they get attached... Somehow, your cases always seem to bring you into contact with the foxiest exponents of your desired sex. By pursuing the clues and taking on the bad guys, you are routinely presented with situations highly conducive to temporary romance: rescuing, interrogating, handcuffing, getting trapped together in escape pods. . . Nobody can tell you there’s a career with a better benefits package!Role Model You are a member of a planet whose youth are, at least in your opinion, unused to seeing themselves in positions of competence and authority. You went into the MEF to show the next generation that they are just as worthy and capable of leadership as the majority. Every case you put down, every problem you solve, creates a path for others like you to follow. Scientific Inquiry The beautiful thing about science, the pursuit that defines your life, is that every answer leads to a new question, and new vistas of knowledge. In an earlier generation, you might have been content to while away your years in a quietly humming, antiseptic laboratory, painstakingly furthering one avenue of research. Among the tragedies of the Silence was its devastating effect on pure research. If a project wasn’t directly applicable to the Silence, it found itself without funding or resources. A generation of students found itself redirected to the development of spike drive technologies. With the galactic economy still in tatters, the true scientists must find unconventional venues for research. You joined an MEF crew knowing that the problems they’re contracted to solve often revolve around weird anomalies and strange technologies. MEF work forces you to act as a generalist. Its dangers make you less a lab-coated scholar than a two-fisted modern Darwin. Along the way you’ve made the oddest discovery of all—that’s the way you like it. Separatism The days of the Mandate are over for good, you believe. The empire has fallen irreparably into decadence and can no longer sustain itself. It will inevitably break up into smaller, more manageable sectors. You are a separatist, a political activist who supports the creation of a federation between the planets of the local sector. This new political entity will need law enforcement. When it comes into being, you’ll be positioned to become one of the government’s founding peace officers. In the meantime, every problem you help solve proves that the Silent Sectors need local solutions, not rule from afar. Of course, it’s just as important that you solve practical problems for your people now, when they need it. If you were cynically using your Ranger status to advance personal ambitions, you’d be just as bad as those effete, worn-out Mandate hacks. You and your laser pistol are here to make sure that the new boss is not remotely the same as the old boss. You are hostile to the goals of Mandate supporters, who seek to re¬turn the region to full centralized control, but may or may not feel personally aggrieved by those who advocate them. Something To Prove All your life you’ve been written off, disregarded, and underestimated. Some people would have resigned themselves to this treatment or would have believed what others said of them. Not you. You worked harder than anyone to prove your worth. In response to this, you were mocked, cheated, and punished. Finally breaking free of your humble circumstances, you made your way—struggling for each inch of advantage—to apply for duty aboard an MEF vessel. Even though you’ve won the trust of your comrades, you can’t help but throw yourself headlong into any task. Those jeering voices still ring in your head, telling you you’re inferior. You cannot and will not let them win. Tech Hound To you, true poetry lies in the engineering of devices. You had a wrench in your hand before you knew how to talk. You were disassembling vehicles before you were legally old enough to drive them. If you served during the war, you quickly earned a reputation as a miracle worker in the engineering room. Afterward you may have taken a lucrative job in some rebuilding industry, but found the work boring by comparison to the seat-of-the-pants, emergency-driven work on a spaceship under fire. With a new generation of sticklers and specifications-loving bureaucrats squeezing out all the combat-hardened technicians, you drifted to the Silent Sectors in search of rougher challenges. You found it in an MEF crew. More than that, you discovered that your understanding of technologies could not only get the ship out of tough scrapes, but could be used to solve the mysteries that put them in trouble in the first place. To get you out of the MEF racket, they’ll have to pry you out with a crowbar.